Elves In America
by Eruialiwen-Calenhen
Summary: The haunted, rather obsessed Eruialiwen, her sister, and their friends set out to find Legolas, who is strangely missing, and find themselves in the home of a Virginia teen. What happens now...? Read to find out...
1. The Journey to Mirkwood

Chapter 1: The Journey to Mirkwood  
  
The golden leaves were beginning to drop from silvered branches. A light breeze shushed through them, unhindered over the boughs and past them. The moon was setting, and there was a grey-blue tinge on the eastern horizon. The air was as sweet as cool rain, the sky still studded by frosty stars.  
  
A figure perched on one of the tree boughs, watching the light slowly cleave to every reachable place from the east. A fine cloak covered the figure from crouched heels to head, a cloak dappled with dew and untouched by the breeze. The figure did not stir, but remained frozen, staring at the east like a grey memorial statue of some lost warrior or kingdom.   
  
Suddenly, a quiet voice from the iron-grey shadows under the trees. "Enednilwen, are you awake?"  
  
The figure moved, and the hood of the cloak fell back. A dark head was revealed, long raven-black hair falling in a cascade down beyond sight under the mantle. The head turned to look down, and a fair face caught the pallid gleams of dawn. In the translucent face were set two bright eyes the color of the midday sky in summer, and rich pink lips touched by no manmade rouge. From the two small plaits winding their way from the hairline to the nape of the neck, pointy ears protruded as though they had strained themselves to listen too long and had formed their peaks.   
  
"A storm is coming," she responded to the voice below the trees. She was an elleth, a she-elf. "It is very far away."  
  
"Then let's go. I'd like to be to King Thranduil's domain by nightfall." A new figure emerged into the growing daylight, owning the voice that was speaking. Another elf maiden, this one a little older than the first, and looking as though she was her twin only with emerald-green eyes. She was sheathing a short sword at her hip and had a bow and quiver strapped between her shoulderblades. She gazed up expectantly at her companion and stood patiently waiting for her to come down.   
  
"Someone is eager this morn," said the first she-elf amusedly, quickly climbing down the tree and leaping off into the wet grass and yellowing ferns. "It must be all that Númenor blood in you, Eruialiwen."  
  
The second elleth scoffed, watching the first gather up her quiver and bow and a small grey-green sack. "You have it too, Enednilwen," she said.   
  
"Yes," Enednilwen said, "but I'm not after the fair prince of Mirkwood. "  
  
Eruialiwen tilted up her head, her dawn-stained face suddenly bright pink. "Legolas is not the reason why I need to go into Mirkwood," she said, her composure defying her embarrassment.   
  
"You mean not the only reason," Enednilwen countered with a grin. "But the main reason."  
  
Eruialiwen frowned, her emerald eyes slightly narrowing, but she said nothing and turned to the still-starlit west. Raising up to her fullest height, as though encouraged by the dying nighttide, she put a step forward and quickly set forth in the dewy brush. Her sister, still grinning, quickly followed after her. They said nought to one another, but were silent as the dawn as it rose ever slowly and tried to escape the coming storm, however long it would be for it to overtake the sun. There was not a hint whatsoever of turbid whether, but both she-elves could feel it on their skin, in their blood, hear it in their ears as faintly as a mosquito walking across a pond. It made their hearts pound behind their breasts: it was always exciting to be caught out in a storm, no matter what the season.  
  
Finally, the golden-pink sun clambered overtop the hills to look down on the blue-green plain. Birds began their morning praises, and every now and then a stag and his doe would emerge from the shadows to graze in the open. The stags would look up as the elf sisters went by, keeping superficial watch as their mates calmly ate, for elves and beasts usually did not hurt one another. And a hunting elf never allowed its victim to have warning before it died.   
  
"Talawen, Ainacalion, and Lothatal should join us soon," Eruialiwen said, finally breaking the silence as they leaped over broken-down boulders in their path. "Since they are on horseback, it shall not be long before we hear the hoofbeats. I hope they brought our horses so our journey might be faster. I haven't ridden Merian since two days before we left Rivendell." Her voice became wistful every time she glanced at the deer; she imagined they were horses and that the biggest stag was her snow-grey stallion, Merian.   
  
"I'd rather walk," said Enednilwen vehemently, "but it would be wise to ride to Mirkwood before this storm comes. I don't like the feel of it. Not at all. If this wasn't so important to Elrond, we shouldn't be going at all." She let her cloak fall behind her shoulders, revealing her brown and green tunic and leggings and soft brown knee-boots. A sword, not unlike her sister's, was belted to her hips in a leather scabbard decorated in elvish wording. "Despair the wicked, for the blade of Tirindail shall shine through them and lay them slain!"  
  
Eruialiwen also let her cloak fall back to let the blushing morning see her plain green tunic and grey leggings. "You may fear the storm, but I do not. Even if I was going alone, I'd still be going."   
  
"Because of Legolas," said Enednilwen.  
  
Eruialiwen began to say something, but fell silent and went back to concentrating on her long strides. The morn was fast growing clearer and bluer, with the breeze steadily increasing until the gilded and bloody leaves of the trees went flying off and twirled in glimmering spirals through the air. Small white clouds drifted quickly in from the east, tattering like ripped cotton in the higher winds above. The elleths advanced through a stony dell, where a tiny creek of singing water went frothing over the rocks and down a steep hill, to meet its fate as a waterfall in the sunlit parts of the tree roots. Dapples of light struck everything through the fiery canopies above them in the dell, and leaves drifted hither and thither like descending butterflies. None of the loose, damp stones tripped up the sisters, nor hindered their steps. They walked like they were on a flat, level road.   
  
"They're coming," said Eruialiwen at last as they came out of the dell and back into full sunlight. "They are about five miles away."  
  
Enednilwen didn't have to stop and listen to hear the hoofbeats approaching. "One...two...three...four...five. They did bring our horses, Eruialiwen," she said after a moment. "We'll make it to Mirkwood before nightfall for sure." There was a high pitch in the edges of her voice, a pitch of anticipation. Eruialiwen noticed it.  
  
"Someone is eager this morn," she mocked lightheartedly. "Must be all those moon-tides in you, Enednilwen."  
  
The other elleth's face was suddenly as red as blood. "You're one to talk," she declared. "You're the one who is so intent on getting to Legolas! And probably to his bed!"  
  
Eruialiwen kept walking, but her countenance darkened. It seemed she would say or do something terrible, but when she opened her mouth, she began to sing instead, and her face and eyes brightened like the sun. 


	2. Unidentified Flying Arrow

Chapter 2: Unidentified Flying Arrow  
  
"In the light of the sunlit wood,  
  
I seek you through the lilting autumn,  
  
And I see you arise, shining and fair, between the trees,  
  
The boughs drifting low in servitude greeting;  
  
How I've longed for you throughout starry eterne  
  
To be in your arms in the peace of the gold and red shade,  
  
Marked by the change you blessed within me  
  
From the moment I first mated with your eyes of sapphire.  
  
Legolas, my Legolas,  
  
Ai, to see you stepping toward me!  
  
I would pay the highest price to have you,  
  
I would pay the highest price to have you love me.  
  
My heart is the target of the arrow of Legolas;  
  
He haunts my dreams at night,  
  
Ai, Legolas, my Legolas,  
  
I follow the path of your light!"  
  
Suddenly, the sharp scream of a stag cut Eruialiwen off, and the elleths instinctively sprang behind two trees. They already had arrows drawn to the strings of their bows when the tawny beast came flailing out of the dell and fell to the ground just where Eruialiwen had been walking in song. The big stag quivered once and died; the white-feathered arrow buried into his chest was long and still quivering from the impact.  
  
Both elves knew not to call on who could be the stag's killer, much less let themselves be seen. Their arrows trembled with the need to fly, their heads pointed toward the shadowy dell where the beast had come crashing from. But nothing more moved other than the dappling sunlight and the drifting leaves. It was as though nothing had happened, but the body of the stag proved otherwise.  
  
Eruialiwen could see her sister out of the corner of her eye, making a single step toward the open but soundlessly in the rustly leaves at her feet. Camoflauged invisibly to any human, the sisters stood still and ready, waiting for the hunter to show himself.   
  
"Either the stag came from a long way, the hunter is slow-footed, or he has seen us," came the barely audible whisper of Enednilwen. The elves were paralell to one another and the stag lay between them. Neither elf blinked or let their hands waver; they were intent and alert for whatever had dared to disturb the peaceful morning. Very still they remained, like dead trees or cold stones, blending into the surroundings so much that no beast born of the area could have perceived they were there if it walked an inch from them. Their eyes and ears were keen, but they heard and saw nothing.  
  
Time moved. The sun crept a little higher into the sky. But the elf-sisters remained unmoving, still staring into the dell from whence they came. "We are losing time," Enednilwen heard her sister saying impatiently.  
  
A sudden hand gripped her shoulder and hooked her backwards. Completely off-guard, her arrow went whistling into the sky as she fell to the ground. Her assailant leaped astride her, and she could not move her arms. He was holding her down with both hands. Eruialiwen cried out, and Enednilwen kicked him in the groin, knocking him away.   
  
"Ai, by the Valar, I've lost my will to live forever!" He was on the ground, kicking it in pain, face-down and clutching his groin.   
  
"You are a fool!" Eruialiwen barked at him, lowering her bow.   
  
"I know," he groaned into the dirt. "So you keep telling me."  
  
Enednilwen sprang to her feet, unwinded yet trying to slow down her racing heart. After a few seconds of blind adrenaline that slowly crawled down off its summit, she recognized the green-brown cloak, straight black hair, and voice of the man writhing on the ground. "Ainacalion." She drew Tirindail out of its sheath and aimed its gleaming blade at his throat.  
  
The he-elf (for he was not a man after all) sat up, suddenly composed. "Enednilwen!" he exclaimed with a grin. His bright green eyes were sparkling like the streams of Rivendell, his home for the past three-hundred years. "How are you?"  
  
"Who killed the stag?" she demanded, motioning her head toward the dead beast. "Was it you?"  
  
Ainacalion's grin disappeared, and he quickly leaped to his feet. "I've never killed a beast of the wood," he retorted. He turned from Enednilwen and her sword and flicked the arrow sticking out of the stag's chest. "And my arrows aren't marked by white feathers." It was then that Enednilwen saw from his quiver that he had arrows tipped by speckled brown feathers. It shamed her to think she could even imagine accusing Ainacalion of something like that, and she felt stupid.   
  
"I'm sorry," she said, sheathing her sword again. "I knew it wasn't you. I was just startled."  
  
Ainacalion brushed himself off and gazed from the stag to her. "Forgive me for scaring you," he said, his tone abruptly gone and a new, lighter one taking its place.   
  
"You act more and more like an elfling every day, Ainacalion," Eruialiwen remarked, bending down and carefully prying the arrow out of the stag to examine its workmanship. Crouching on her knees, she balanced the bloodied shaft in one hand and studied it. "I don't recognize the make," she said after a few silent moments. "I've never seen an arrow like it. It is not as lightweight nor as swift as an arrow of elven make. It is human."  
  
"That is only obvious," said a new voice, an unenthusiastic one, from the trees. The three elves quickly looked up as yet another elf emerged, cloakless, clothed in red-browns and her earth-colored hair falling behind her lithe back in a single plait. She was leading a white horse by the bridle. Her grey eyes darkened at the sight of the dead beast. "Even from back here, I can tell that no elf made the weapons that killed the stag. I'm surprised that elves so high in stature did not realize that themselves."   
  
Enednilwen tore her eyes from Ainacalion, and Ainacalion tore his eyes from hers, and Eruialiwen tore her eyes from the arrow, to stare at the she-elf. "I wouldn't call being half-Edain that high in stature, Lothatal," said Ainacalion.   
  
"Nor would I," said yet another voice in disdain; another she-elf came out of the dell, riding a grey horse and leading three more behind her.   
  
The two sisters felt heat boiling up through their blood as rage, but outwardly they showed no trace of indignance. "I would not discount the blood of Númenor," said Enednilwen smoothly. "Our father was a friend of Elessar's, besides. Do not tell me that none of you admire the name of that man?"  
  
Eruialiwen straightened up, still holding the arrow. A look of reminiscing shadowed her face, but the other three elves fidgeted. "Of course we do," Ainacalion said uncomfortably. "What elf doesn't? Yet--"  
  
"My point made." Enednilwen stately turned and walked toward the second horse that the mounted Talawen was leading; a smokey-white mare with a wavy mane. "Good to see you again, Alanoth, my friend," she said, managing a smile as she took the delicate bridle from Talawen and led the beast along herself. As she walked, she muttered under her breath, "I would that some of Rivendell's dwellers conform to intelligence and not to stupidity..." but she wasn't sure that the others had heard it and she wasn't sure that she wanted them to, especially not the fair-faced Ainacalion. 


	3. Lightning and Thunder

Chapter 3: Lightning and Thunder  
  
The sun was setting, triumphant in escaping the now-louring storm clouds, when the party reached the outer clutches of Mirkwood, which greeted them like a grimacing black wall. A great wind had picked up, roaring through the trees and angrily ripping their leaves off. The five horses balked and snorted, worriedly champing their bits and stomping the ground as forked tongues of lightning lashed out in the distance and groans of thunder quickly met them, but it wasn't certain what the elvish steeds feared more: the storm, or Mirkwood.   
  
Lothatal and Enednilwen sat on their nervous mounts, gazing over the shimmering treetops at the approaching menace. Their companions, also still mounted, stood under the eaves of the forest's gnarled outer trees. A few blackened leaves swirled down among them in the wind, but in the open wilds away from the shelter of the trees, the two elleths were being bombarded by flying yellow and orange leaves.   
  
"The lightning is blue," Lothatal remarked.   
  
Enednilwen glanced at her. "You talk like that's a normal thing," she grunted, and Alanoth snorted in agreement. "Or are you seeing things?"  
  
Lothatal slowly turned her head and lifted her chin, staring at the younger elleth in effectual superiority. "The lightning is blue," she replied in a dark undertone. "I never see falsely."  
  
Enednilwen turned her eyes back to the storm. Lothatal had been a guard at the gates of Rivendell for a century now, and though she was a surly and reserved elf who contained little mercy and much bitterness, Lord Elrond favored her because of her attitude. Not a one of Rivendell's dwellers knew from whence Lothatal came, nor would she tell them. Her duty was to protect the shining gates of the forest city, and she did it, night and day, without distraction.   
  
"An omen?" Enednilwen offered to the silent Lothatal, picking up the reins of Alanoth as he anxiously began pawing the earth with one hoof.   
  
"An omen," Lothatal echoed, still staring at the sky. "An ill one."  
  
"Of what evil?" said Talawen, coming up behind them. "Worse than of Mirkwood?"  
  
Lothatal did not speak for a minute or so, but when she did, her voice was rimmed thoughtful. "I don't think it is evil," she said, "but it is unsavory, nonetheless. Something is going to happen."  
  
Ainacalion quickly urged his horse toward them, his hand on the hilt of a green-handled knife. "And what is this something?" he demanded. "Would we be better off staying out here in the storm, or going through the wood? Tell me that, wise elleth!"  
  
Lothatal pivoted on her horse to gaze at him with eyes like grey stones. "I do not know," she replied lowly. "But the wood is safer, if safe can even be used for Mirkwood. It would be unneccessary to remain out here when we could be halfway toward Thranduil's palace by the time the storm passes over. He wanted us there as swiftly as possible."  
  
"Then swiftly as possible we shall get there," Eruialiwen remarked from the edge of the trees, spurring her horse toward the green-black shadows that awaited. Merian balked as soon as his ears touched the long straggles of ivy that hung from the branches, tossing his head and neighing in protest, trying to back away, but his rider forced him foreward again.   
  
"The horses shouldn't go through Mirkwood," said Ainacalion, worriedly. "They don't like it, for good reason. The spiders could kill them."  
  
As though understanding the elf's words, Merian and the other steeds snorted and neighed. "We'll get to Thranduil's gate much sooner if we ride through," Eruialiwen insisted. "I've brought Merian through here before."  
  
Talawen sniffed. "Then he has had a bad experience under these eaves," she remarked. "Look at him dance away from the wood!"  
  
The company of elves looked up at the sky again, except for Eruialiwen, who was trying to control her steed. "You're acting like a colt," she rebuked. "I should have borrowed Glorfindel's horse. Asfaloth behaves much better than you."  
  
Alanoth stopped snorting and suddenly tossed up his head, whickering in example to good behavior; Asfaloth was his elder brother.  
  
"If we are to go through Mirkwood, let us go," Lothatal said shortly. "Horses and all."  
  
They quickly dismounted and refilled their water-skins in a small creek trickling nearby, for they were wise enough not to drink the enchanted water than ran in the streams within the wood. Once again mounting their trembling horses at the deep growl of near thunder, the elves quickly left the fading daylight and entered the blackness of Mirkwood. 


	4. Spiderwebs

Chapter 4: Spiderwebs   
  
A/N: LoL, now anonymous users can review! Sorry! Poor anonymice...hehe. Ack, I've forgotten about the disclaimer all the way up until now!!! u_u" Oh well, here it is:  
  
I am not part of the Tolkien family, nor do I pretend to be. I do not pretend to own any of Prof. Tolkien's characters, elements, or locations, because I obviously don't. I do not own Middle-Earth, Rivendell, Mirkwood, Esgaroth, King Thranduil, Legolas, Elrond, Ellesar, Arwen, Glorfindel, Asfaloth, or ANYBODY or ANYTHING in this story that is obviously Tolkien's. I DO, however, own Eruialiwen, Enednilwen, Lothatal, Ainacalion, Talawen, Merian, Alanoth, and anybody and anything else that are obviously not Tolkien's. Yay.   
  
  
  
The entrance to the clear elven-path was overhung with long strands of black ivy and the leaning boughs it strangled from. The horses entered nervously, their hoofs silent on the path, as the light from outside the forest gate quickly disappeared and all noise from the storm became a pale, muffled sound. The quietness in Mirkwood was deafening to the party of elves, and the darkness was almost complete except for a green shimmer in the shadows on either side of them.  
  
The animals in Mirkwood, despite not worrying about being harmed by the storm outside, were not about. Only a few scufflings and scamperings were heard in the damp, thick underbrush, fleeing from the approach of the horses. As the elven-steeds trotted surely along the winding path, dense spiderwebs appeared more and more frequently, seemingly thrown carelessly in dark tangles in the tree boughs. None stretched across the path, for the ancient power of Mirkwood's people kept it clear.   
  
"We will have to kill a couple of the spiders before this journey is over," said Enednilwen, her voice seeming like a shout in the green-black quiet. "They will come after the horses."  
  
"They won't get the horses," said Lothatal darkly. "The spiders will be dead before they can even sense us coming."  
  
They continued on very swiftly, for even at a trot an elven-steed moved like it was at a gallop. Night began to close in, and the thunder was louder overhead. Eruialiwen could remember her last trip through the wood; at night all kinds of unseen beasts would stare at her with glowing eyes from the trees, and she had gotten away from the spiders before they could even touch her or Merian. She had been so eager to get to Legolas that she didn't care what she had to go through to reach him, and she got through without one scrape. Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, had met her halfway through to his father's forest palace, and had shot down the spiders that tried to come after her. Afterwards he had led her through safely to the palace and treated her to one of the elves' merry nighttide feasts. Three days later, after much courtship and feasting and singing, he had sent her out to retreive the lost iolite of Long Lake, where Smaug the dragon fell from grace thirty years prior. The iolite had been part of the dragon's great jewel-encrusted underside and lay in the bottom of the singing lake, held fast between two of his skeleton's ribs. Legolas had seen the rare blue-violet jewel on one of his trips to rebuild the ruined town of Esgaroth, but his father forebade him from taking it.   
  
"Yet Legolas trusted me enough to go and get it and bring it back to him without taking it for myself," she thought. "He didn't even know me very well at the time."  
  
Prince Legolas and Eruialiwen had initially met a century before, when she and Enednilwen encountered he and his father riding over the Misty Mountains and had accompanied them to Rivendell to have a visit with Lord Elrond. Eruialiwen could not take her eyes off Legolas, his brilliant blue eyes and luxurious silver-blonde hair. The way he carried himself, the way he spoke and moved and gazed at her, touched her spirit. She greatly liked him, but privately, holding her excitement within herself until that day when he called upon her to feast with him and ride to Esgaroth. That day, she had discovered--with much exhilaration--that he liked her as much as she did him. It was a wonderful feeling, but not as wonderful as this. She felt her mind wandering as to what the reason was that King Thranduil wanted her at the wood-palace. Maybe Legolas desired to take her for his wife. Then she would be Princess Eruialiwen...maybe even Queen...  
  
"We will soon near the area of the spiders," Lothatal said suddenly, breaking Eruialiwen's chain of thought. "Be on your guard."  
  
The green-eyed elleth looked about her, realizing it was the depths of night and the storm was brewing and gnashing over the thick canopy of the forest. Even in the enormous darkness, she could see excellently. Bats and moths flew about beyond the path, disturbing the large, glimmering white and black deer that dwelt there. The undergrowth had already disappated and most of the trees were beeches, and there was fresher air. The shadows were less deep and brilliant flashes of lightning scored through the darkness. A loud wind came rushing down from the canopy of yellow leaves, but it was neither refreshing or cheerful. It was angry and cold. Merian was several lengths ahead of the other elves, eager to get to Thranduil's stables, which he and Eruialiwen both knew by memory weren't far off. It would soon be dawn, and they were tireless, but they felt that they needed some respite from the agonized storm overhead and the stuffiness of the grey forest.   
  
Suddenly, as though falling down from the storm itself, a great grey mass collapsed on Eruialiwen and her steed. The stuff was sticky, and suffocating, and it brought Merian down, throwing his rider several yards away. His neigh of absolute terror was the last thing that Eruialiwen heard before she saw and felt no more. 


	5. Thranduil's Command

A/N: Yay, I'm finally back with the next chapter!! Be proud. My 20th birthday was yesterday, and I'm so happy...err, that was random, but oh well. I have a correction from Chapter 3: in that chapter is says that Enednilwen's horse, Alanoth, is a mare. Chapter 4 says Alanoth is "Asfaloth's brother". A bit of gender confusion there, no? Well, in truth, Alanoth IS a male. I don't know why I ever wrote that he was a female. But things like that oft occur in an ill-prepared story. Hopefully I will catch a mistake next time before I post a chapter! Now..ONWARD!!!

Disclaimer: As always, I do NOT own Legolas, Thranduil, Mirkwood, Asfaloth, or anybody that directly comes from Tolkien's works, nor do I pretend to own them. Thankyeh.

Chapter 5: Thranduil's Command  
  
Eruialiwen weakly opened her eyes, momentarily disoriented. It was full daylight and the wood was much thinner, allowing much yellow-green light to spill in and emphasize the deep shadows beyond. She was slumped over on a horse, but she was not holding the reins. Someone was behind her. She tried to turn in her seat but pain in her head exploded like fire, and she was forced to look forward again, groaning.  
  
"You will live," said Enednilwen from behind her. "A spider poisoned you."  
  
Eruialiwen looked up at Ainacalion, who was riding before them. His horse was bloodstained and weary. "Is everyone unhurt? Where is Merian?" she asked, not daring to turn her head again for fear of the crushing pain assaulting her again.  
  
"Everyone is fine," Enednilwen replied grimly. "Knocked about a little, but Lothatal killed most of the spiders before they could reach us. They were mainly after the horses."  
  
"Is Merian hurt?" her sister demanded, slowly feeling herself growing stronger. She brought herself up to a sitting position and attempted to look over Enednilwen's shoulder at the other two elleths. "Was he poisoned too?" She averted her gaze to her sister and stared at her.  
  
Enednilwen's face was calm, but her eyes were downcast. "The spider that threw the web over you...it killed Merian just before we could destroy it."  
  
Horrified, Eruialiwen could not break her stare. For a few moments she could feel no words come to her. When she finally was able to speak, she said, "But the spiders paralyze their victims before eating them. They don't kill them straightaway!"  
  
"This one did," Enednilwen murmured. "It must have been hungry. I am sorry, sister."  
  
Eruialiwen turned back in the saddle and felt a crushing pain--this time not in her head--grind her into dust. Her horse, her beautiful stallion she had raised from a little colt...  
  
"Never mind that, we are upon King Thranduil's realm," came Lothatal's cold voice from behind them. "I thought he knew we were coming."  
  
"He does," Ainacalion said in a puzzled voice. "But some of his people do not."  
  
The party was suddenly and quietly surrounded by a dozen elves, blending seamlessly with the wood, bows strung and arrows nocked. All of them had gleaming golden hair and wreaths of autumn flowers upon their heads, but they did not seem cheerful as those upon the fair heads that had welcomed Eruialiwen to the king's feast. Their faces were calm and expressionless, but their steady hands at the bows affirming that if the party moved, they would be shot.  
  
"What is your business in this kingdom?" one of them said quietly; an older he-elf with tawny hair. He wore a plain silver circlet on his forehead and the party recognized his position as the captain of Thranduil's guard.  
  
"We are here by the summons of King Thranduil," Lothatal said, in a matching voice that was yet full of authority. "We are sent by Lord Elrond of Rivendell."  
  
The opposing elves looked wary, and Enednilwen said: "We are friends and kin. " No noise permeated the wood; it was as though every living thing had paused breathlessly to watch what would happen next.  
  
"Kin?" The guard-captain echoed. "I can see the Edain in your every step and breath."  
  
Eruialiwen knew that Ainacalion, Talawen and Lothatal would initially be offended by this, but the guard-captain was speaking exclusively to she and Enednilwen. "I have been here before," she said, forcing her voice to remain clear and steady despite the pain throbbing through her head and her heart. "Prince Legolas received me. I am Eruialiwen Calenhen, daughter of Araniel of Rivendell and Talmin the Blue-Cloaked."  
  
The guard-captain gazed hard at her, blinked, then his face softened. "Ah. You are indeed a friend. I did not recognize you, forgive me. Lower your arrows, friends. Eruialiwen and her riders were indeed summoned by the King. Let them pass and receive treatment for their wounds."  
  
The golden-haired elves immediately withdrew their weapons and moved out of the way, silent and their expressions unchanged. Ainacalion and Talawen, who were in front, led the three other elleths through the strewn leaves and past the watchful elven guards. The guard-captain walked swiftly ahead of them, crossing first over the wide bridge that swept over the thundering black Forest River, and the great gates to Thranduil's cavern kingdom swung languidly open, though there was no-one beyond them.  
  
"We will take care of your horses," the guard-captain said, rounding about and facing the bloodstained travelers as they dismounted their horses. "My name is Isolden. I will take you to the king, and then you all may rest."   
  
Nodding slightly in response, the party dismounted; all but Eruialiwen, who was staring blankly at Alanoth's grey mane. Enednilwen and Talawen seemed to think she was sleeping, but Ainacalion quickly went to her and grasped one of her small, pale hands, and said: "Come on. Merian died very quickly, I doubt that he felt pain. You must look ahead to the summons that King Thranduil gave you. You'll be seeing Prince Legolas again, no doubt, and that thought must cheer your heart."   
  
Eruialiwen said nothing, but her eyes thawed from their unmoving stare as she let herself be gently pulled off her sister's horse. She briefly wondered why the woodland prince was not there to greet her as she was briskly guided across the bridge and into the halls of his father.   
  
Unlike the last time Eruialiwen had been here, there was no uplifting elvensong filling the light cavern rooms and corridors. There was only a strange, unusual silence. She followed Isolden into the great hall where King Thranduil paced up and down before his intently carved throne.  
  
"They have arrived, my king," Isolden said quietly, dropping down to one knee before Thranduil, who at the moment was ignoring everyone's presence and was still pacing. He wore a rich brown cloak that trailed the floor, and a crown of berries and autumn-infused leaves upon his forehead. His long silver-blonde hair fell just past his shoulders, catching intense gleams from the crimson and gold torchlight as he at last looked up to meet the eyes of the elven company before him. His dark grey eyes were drawn down by eyebrows that were furrowed in worry.  
  
"Greetings and hail King Thranduil," Lothatal said cooly, and her comrades murmured the same, dropping down into kneeling bows before rising again. "We have arrived at your calling and desire to know your intentions."  
  
Thranduil looked slightly distracted as his eyes searched the party. "Rise and leave us, Isolden. Where is Eruialiwen, who is also called Green Eyes of the West? Ah, she is indeed here, along with her sister. Welcome, all of you." He managed a grim smile and strode toward them, coming within a few feet of them and gazing at them all in turn, as the guard-captain inclined his head in respect and withdrew from the great hall.   
  
"I am afraid to say that the spiders attacked us on the way in, my king," Ainacalion said, his eyes darkening. "We destroyed several of them, but not before Eruialiwen and Talawen were injured and one of our steeds was killed."   
  
It was only now that Eruialiwen noticed that someone besides herself had been stricken by the spiders. Talawen's cheek was dripping blood, and her long sleeve was torn in several places. Her bright copper-colored hair was askew from its delicate plaits. Thranduil gazed hard from Eruialiwen to the other bright-eyed elleth.  
  
"It is not often that the elves are taken unawares by the spiders. You should have been more vigilant." He turned away and sniffed, but not contemptuously. "As should have I," he added in a low mutter.  
  
"King Thranduil," Lothatal said sharply, seeming preturbed that the king thought her watchful skills less than perfect. "I must inquire to why you summoned us here. Surely there is some reason that is less than savory. The elves are not merry this day."  
  
Thranduil turned his head back toward them in a clean twist; his body slowly followed. His face was suddenly drawn with grief. "I would not have asked anyone less than your company to attend to the task at hand. It is my son, Legolas. He has disappeared beyond the mists."   
  
Everyone but Lothatal started at this news, Eruialiwen especially. Her heart leaped into her throat and now all thoughts of her dead steed were cast away to focus only on Legolas.   
  
"The mists, my king?" Ainacalion ventured, looking confused. Eruialiwen, Enednilwen, and Talawen all shared his expression. What was this other evil lurking under the black eaves of Mirkwood, and why hadn't they heard of it before?  
  
"The Black Vale," Lothatal responded darkly, before the king could speak. "I have seen it before. Even to elves, it is not visible in the shadows until it is too late. Anyone or anything that passes through the Black Vale never returns."  
  
"If it is not viewable," piped up Talawen, "then how could you have seen it? Surely you did not go through it and come out again."  
  
Lothatal eyed her, seeming to challenge the redhaired elleth's query. "My brother disappeared through it," she said with a hardened voice and expression. "He and I were riding past King Thranduil's palace, in a northwest direction following the Forest River. He strayed from me. As I watched, he and his horse were swallowed up by a sudden void. I did not follow him, for fear I would meet his fate, whatever it would be. Five hundred times the leaves have bloomed in Mirkwood and Rivendell alike, and I have not heard from my brother again. I wish I had gone through the Black Vale to find him."  
  
Thranduil closed his eyes for a long moment. "Legolas, just like everyone else who dwells here, knows not to traverse along the north side of the Forest River, for fear of running through the invisible shadow. He always was the more adventurous of us..." He trailed off and went to his throne, where he sat down with a heavy sigh.  
  
Eruialiwen knew at once what had to be done, and at the moment she did not care if she died for it. "You are requesting us to go into the Black Vale ourselves and find Prince Legolas."  
  
Thranduil's mouth was a straight line. "I am not requesting of you. I am commanding you," he said.   
  
Ainacalion's eyes flashed. "Then you are sentencing us to death, and for what, my king?" he snapped, taking a bold step forward.  
  
"For the sake of Legolas!" Thranduil flared, leaping out of his seat so quickly that Talawen and Enednilwen gasped, but Ainacalion remained one step closer to him. Thranduil took a deep breath and sat back down. "I do not see how the Black Vale brings death. It has taken him to another place, no doubt, though whether in Middle Earth or otherwise is debatable. I do not know how the Vale came to be, for it has not always been in Mirkwood. It is the work of some dark force, maybe a sorceror's. I know the elves did not create it, and neither did men. The Black Vale, if created by a dark sorceror, could have been created as a transport. Sorcerors are not that rare in Mirkwood, though I have never heard of any this close to my people, endangering their welfare and endangering the welfare of the beasts who live here as well."  
  
"So...if we go through the mists unscathed, and find Prince Legolas, how are we to bring him back?" Ainacalion asked, great skeptisism in his voice. "As Lothatal said, nobody ever returns after they enter the mists."  
  
Thranduil stared at him, and the party already knew his answer, it was plain on his face: "That I know not. But that is why I called upon the best young elves I can conjure in my mind. I trust you. I trust you to find my son and return him to Mirkwood, however you may be able to do that."  
  
There was silence, a deadened weight that filled the great hall and seemed to leak into all surrounding corridors and rooms. It felt like a hundred years before anybody spoke, but Eruialiwen finally found her voice and managed, "We accept your command readily, King Thranduil."  
  
Her comrades at once stared at her, and Ainacalion scowled noiselessly. But Eruialiwen's eyes were only for the king, and they shared an unbreaking gaze that reached into the depths of one another's trust. "All of you shall be greatly rewarded when you bring him back," he said softly, his face brightening slightly. "But for this night, you all shall rest and find refreshment. In the morning you will set out. Eruialiwen, I shall lend to you Legolas's most prized horse, Calenhen. You are warmly dismissed." 


	6. Through The Mists

Chapter 6: Through the Mists  
  
A/N: Gah, I would have updated with this chapter earlier, but my computer crashed last week and had to go in to have a new hard drive put in. So sorry about the wait (again) for my faithful readers (if there are any), the following chapters should arrive much more quickly from now on! This, obviously, is NOT my best chapter, but meh.  
  
Eruialiwen spread out upon the same velvety warm bed she had slept in the last time she had visited Mirkwood. For a while a shallow dreamstate submersed her in images of Legolas laying down beside her, but when she reached out to touch him, she awoke to find herself groping her sister's face.  
  
"Ai," Enednilwen growled, pulling away and rolling over out of Eruialiwen's reach. "I didn't know you felt that way about me, sister."  
  
The two sisters were sharing a bed, and there was more than enough room, for the bed was large enough to accomodate one more elf, possibly two. That was the way all the beds were in the palace of Thranduil; everything was spacious and comfortable. Even the prison cells in the dungeon below were supposed to be comfortable for whatever prisoner Thranduil had in there, though the prison guards were dangerous elves like Lothatal and no-one dare cross them if they wanted to live.  
  
Shuddering, Eruialiwen wondered if that was where Legolas was, in a prison or dungeon someplace. Surely he would not be hospitably treated by the lesser peoples of Middle Earth or elsewhere. But at least he would be alive. She was doubting minute by minute that the Black Vale had taken him and not killed him, and she was also doubting that she and her comrades would survive this dark shadow. How were they to find it, if it was invisible?  
  
Enednilwen stirred and turned to face her again. "I haven't slept. I can't stop thinking whether our fate is life or death this day," she said quietly. "What of you?"  
  
Eruialiwen gazed, troubled, at the ceiling. "I slept little, myself," she replied, with what seemed like much effort. "I cannot stop thinking if Legolas is dead or alive. If he is indeed dead, then it is better if the Black Vale kills me as well. I can't live one day if he is not alive as well."  
  
Her sister's eyes darkened at these words, and she propped herself up on one elbow. "You sound like our mother," she said, her voice reduced to a low whisper, "when she tried to share her immortality with our father. It did not work. She died of mortality when I was an elfling. Ada tried to live on to take care of us, grieved as he was."  
  
"But Legolas and I are both elves," Eruialiwen began. "If he chose to share his immortality with me, it would not fail as I am elven, even if only half so. Ada was full Edain, but he did get the full brunt of Mother's immortality, after all. He died merely five autumns ago."  
  
Enednilwen shrugged, not able to disagree. "If Legolas is dead, I will not choose to live in torment for as long as I live, however long of a time that shall be. I will claim myself in the grip of death," Eruialiwen continued determinedly, clenching her fists under the blanket and not blinking at the mind-blank ceiling. Her sister chose to remain silent, and neither of them said anything more, but lay there in contemplative warm self-solitude.  
  
The sisters presently heard footsteps in the corridor that anyone else would be deaf to. Enednilwen started at them and sat up. The oaken door to the sisters' bedchamber door opened, and a tall shadow fell across the floor of the room.   
  
"A curse upon you for entering the bedchamber of unprepared--" Eruialiwen growled, but she didn't get to finish her cursing, because Ainacalion had launched himself in the air and leaped onto the bed, tackling the elleths and wrestling them both at once. A string of curses learned from Ranger slang from Eruialiwen, a muffled screech from Enednilwen, and melodious laughter from Ainacalion as he rolled them into a tangle across the bed. Then, a squeal, and shrieks as he began tickling them. Finally he sat up on his knees, releasing his friends from torment. "Good morrow, Elenhiril and Calenhen," he said amusedly, bowing.   
  
Enedilwen grabbed him by his long dark hair and pulled him forward in attempt to throw him off balance as he bowed, but he fell headfirst into her lap. Eruialiwen let out a very loud laugh, watching her sister and friend struggle in startled discomfort and quickly separate. Their faces were pink, their eyes dark and bright like water under moonlight.   
  
"Look more cheerful," Ainacalion said, recomposing himself and stepping lightly off the bed. "We are going to go on a little adventure today."  
  
"And could die," Enednilwen added.   
  
"If we die, then we will be at peace," the elf replied, still not looking at her. "For now, we have the worries of Middle-Earth upon us. If the Vale takes us to a separate world, like that King Thranduil suggested, then we could have even more worries."  
  
Eruialiwen set her delicate feet upon the floor and stood, her loose nightdress flowing past her ankles in a white cascade. "Then we shall worry together," she said quietly, walking toward the far end of the room where fresh clothes had been laid out for her the night before. "As best friends and companions."  
  
Enednilwen remained sitting upright in bed, gazing uncomfortably at Ainacalion, who still seemed embarrassed. "I'm wondering if the stranger who shot the stag has anything to do with the Black Vale," he wondered aloud, prodding one of the clean-cut stones that made up the wall. "I have been thinking about it for some time now. The arrow was not of elven make, as Eruialiwen said, but of men. I cannot recognize it from any of the towns of men I have been in."   
  
Eruialiwen briefly put down the clothes she was carrying and turned around. "You brought it with you?"  
  
Ainacalion reached into the quiver strapped across his back and withdrew the white-feathered arrow, which was rusty with dried blood. "I did. I wanted to compare it to the arrows of any we would see since. We might find the owner of this arrow past the Black Vale, if possible."  
  
Eruialiwen did not seem to acknowledge him, but took the clothing and proceeded to slip out of her nightdress. Desperate thoughts clung to her mind, digging deep where they could not be removed. The only thing that occupied her was Legolas, and how he was fairing, wherever he was, or if he was even alive. The anxiety stuck to her like heat, threatening the brink of madness. She quickly dressed into the typical green-brown of Mirkwood's light clothing, and drew the straps of her quiver snugly to her chest. The long tunic was a very dark green, and she was disturbedly reminded of the trailing dress she wore the last time she visited Mirkwood, when she was merry at Thranduil's feast with Legolas at her side. A dress the young prince commented on, saying that it suited her very well.  
  
"Are you all right?" Enednilwen queried, shattering her sister's thoughts. Eruialiwen threw her own cloak over her shoulders, picked up her bow, and offered Enednilwen and Ainacalion a grim smile. "I am fine. Now, let us go." And she swept from the room, with the elf in her wake and her sister leaping up to get dressed as well.  
  
Minutes later, the three elves were in the stables ajoining Thranduil's cavern palace, greeting Talawen and Lothatal as they led their steeds out of their stalls. Eruialiwen was gently patting Calenhen's silky grey muzzle, shivering to think that Legolas had touched the same horse not long before and had named her after his elleth friend. "Do not fail me," Eruialiwen whispered in the mare's ear. "Do not let me fail your master." Calenhen whickered at the words, turning to knowingly nuzzle Eruialiwen's forehead.  
  
Isolden quickly strode to the group, from his watchpoint at the stable's entrance. "The King wishes you all a safe, swift journey," he said gravely, hailing them with his hand bent upward, palm facing out, beside him. "May no chill or heat beset you, may no ill fall upon you. You are trusted to find Prince Legolas and return him to the eaves of Mirkwood, my friends. You must not falter in this quest." His grey eyes met the two sisters'. "Daughters of Elessar's friend, daughters of Rangers and of elves, find our prince. You are committed to the King."  
  
The party stood silent, acknowledging the guard-captain's words. Lothatal was the first to move, leaping onto her horse and taking up the reins. "We will not fail, Isolden of Mirkwood," she said, inclining her sleek neck to him. "We will bring Prince Legolas back alive and well. Peace follow you this day." With a gentle slap of the soft leather reins, she urged her horse forward at a thunderous gallop. The rest followed behind her, leaving the stable of Thranduil and having no idea that they would ever see it again.  
  
The trees to the northwest were strangely thicker and blacker than in the rest of the wood. The grim party rode as fast as their horses were able between the gnarled trunks, crashing through the undergrowth and countless times nearly falling when the steeds' legs became entangled in the vines. None of them said a thing, but were intent upon what lay before them. Whatever lay before them. The thought of possibly never seeing Middle Earth again was close in each of their minds, as well as the thought of the Black Vale suffocating them to their deaths. Though each elf knew that the other was thinking the same thing, none dared voice these thoughts. The overwhelming dark and asphyxiation of the wood was drawing ever more down on them, choking any words into silence. Even the horses could not snort as they galloped bravely along. It seemed like a void, a long, endless dark void on all sides.   
  
It could have been minutes later, or days, or a week. The humid oppression suddenly drifted into icy coldness, permeating into the elves' very bones. Unused to feeling cold, they looked at one another uncomfortably, though even with their excellent eyes they could barely make out the outlines of each other or their steeds. Or anything else. There was nothing but darkness. No green shadows, no drifting of leaves, no scurrying of unseen creatures. The horses' hoofs went from muffled thudding to total silence, though they were still galloping tirelessly.   
  
"The mists," Talawen managed in a choked, pale voice; the darkness was so heavy that seemed to press upon her throat. "I think we are entering the Black Vale."  
  
Before anyone could say anything else, there was a scream from one of the horses--no-one could tell which one it was--and suddenly they were all plummeting downwards as though falling from a steep cliff. They fell so fast that the dead air around them whistled and roared, and their insides were crowding up into their mouths. Their screams could not be heard, even by theirselves. Minds white and hands gripping tightly in their plunging horses' reins, they fell. 


	7. The One Who Wasn't

Chapter 7: The One Who Wasn't  
  
A/N: I think this chapter is amusing. You all may not, but you can go eat hounded pineapples then! ;)  
  
Disclaimer: As always, I do NOT own Legolas or anything to directly do with LOTR or JRR Tolkien. I also do not own Orlando Bloom. discontent sigh  
  
Eruialiwen was the first to realize that the descent was vastly slowing down. Calenhen still flailed beneath her, but she kept a firm grip on the reins and with her knees, determined to hold on as the terror ebbed away. Now it was more like they were drifting down, instead of falling. The pitch blackness around them was lightening steadily, like a fast-approaching dawn, and the air had stopped whistling. Calenhen drew her hoofs in as though preparing to land, and Eruialiwen noticed that she could see her friends again, and their steeds were doing the same. Her friends were white-faced, but seemed to have lost their fright and were beginning to look at each other. None of them had any time to think any more as their horses' hoofs suddenly and gently touched ground at a gallop. The elves quickly reined them in, and as they did so, the darkness all around them began to lift like diluting ink. A faint noise like rushing water grew somewhere in the distance, becoming louder and louder every moment until the horses began balking nervously and their riders withdrew their weapons in anticipation of what might be coming. Eruialiwen had just nocked an arrow when suddenly the noises came to a pitch--women shouting and screaming--and the dark ground pitched downwards, throwing all five elves from their horses and casting their weapons out of reach in the process. Strong, flashing lights attacked Eruialiwen's eyes as she quickly leaped up, but they weren't strong enough to keep her from staring around her. On either side of her were thin, metal fences, holding back what appeared to be hundreds of young women that were leaning and groping the air and cheering at the tops of their lungs. In dozens of places among the women were the frequent bright flashes of light, and most of the hysterical women were showing more skin than the prostitutes Eruialiwen once saw in a distant town of the Edain. These were definitely Edain as well, as well as the men scattered at intervals along the outside of the fences; these men wore all black and were burly, handsome creatures that seemed to be guarding the women. Or guarding something from them. "What is going on?" Talawen's eyes were huge, her short sword held before her. "Where are we? What madness is this?"  
"At least we are alive," Lothatal replied. "But I too would like to know where in Middle-Earth we are. I do not know this place."  
Enednilwen's hand was back on Tirindail's beloved handle. "I do not think we are in Middle-Earth anymore, Lothatal," she said quietly; for even above the din the elves could still hear a whisper a mile away with their sharp hearing. "What ails them?" Ainacalion said aloud, body taut, gazing from one side of the stricken women to the other. "You should say 'who' ails them," Lothatal growled, then blinked sharply at the opposite end of the hard path they were standing on. "Am I joining their madness, or do I see the one we seek?"  
Eruialiwen instantly followed her gaze, and when her eyes made contact with the person Lothatal was motioning to, her mind went white and seemed to tighten in toward her eyes, and her blood thundered red at the edges of her vision for a moment with an excited thrill. It was Legolas, or so it seemed. Did the vestiges of time and place that he fell through distort his mind, or was he forced into shearing off his gorgeous hair and dyeing it dark brown, like her own hair? He did not wear the earthen colors she had seen him in before, but instead wore clothes more bizarre and bright than most of the womens' clothing, or lack thereof. At least he was fully clothed, Eruialiwen thought, and then a bright stab of strange feeling hit her as he hugged many of the screaming women and even kissed some of them on the cheek. As the elves stood wide-eyed and staring at Legolas, Ainacalion voiced what all of them were thinking. "He certainly has changed, hasn't he?"  
Suddenly, several of the black-dressed guards were pushing the elves toward the metal fences and writhing women. "Get back in there," one of them was shouting. "I know you guys like Orlando a lot, but so do the rest of these people. Now get back!" He roughly grabbed Eruialiwen's arm as she broke away from the group and started running toward Legolas. "Damn these fangirls to hell and back!" the guard barked, yanking her backward as she pulled against him.  
"Get off her!" Ainacalion shouted, raising his sword threateningly at the guards.  
Eruialiwen broke away again and ran toward Legolas. He was busy writing on a piece of paper an adolescant girl had handed him, and didn't see the elleth until she was nearly atop him. "Legolas," she breathed. "You are safe."  
He turned to her with a raised eyebrow and an expression resembling fear and amusement. And his eyes are brown, Eruialiwen noted to herself in surprise. How have his eyes changed from blue to brown?  
"Legolas isn't here," he said with a grin and an accent unfamiliar to her. "He was abducted by sex-crazed aliens just a half hour ago. Sorry you missed him."  
Several of the women before him giggled loudly at his words. He finished writing on the paper and handed it back to the young girl, who was blushing furiously and tittered a nervous thanks as his hand brushed against hers. "Nice costume," he said, still looking at the dumbfounded Eruialiwen. "It's really authentic-looking, you know. You seem to have devoted a lot of time to this." He grabbed her in such a sudden hug that her breath was taken away in a shaky sigh. "Most actors hate their fans, but I don't," he continued with a laugh. "I feel special."  
A hooked hand in Eruialiwen's shoulder sharply jerked her away from him. Her hands were forced behind her back and she felt something cold and heavy and tight being cinched around her wrists. She twisted her head around and came face to face with yet another guard, but this one was dressed in blue and looked very angry. "Oh, come off it," Legolas--or who was supposed to be Legolas--protested. "Give the girl a break. She isn't hurting anybody."  
"Sorry Mr. Bloom," the guard said, "but she is carrying a weapon. Her little friends back there threatened to kill the cops that were trying to get them back behind the barrier, and have also got a crapload of weapons on them." Shrugging, he whipped Eruialiwen around and forced her back toward her comrades. Disoriented and bewildered beyond capacity, she numbly allowed herself to be seized and dragged away like a criminal, separated from Legolas yet again. 


	8. She Who Helped

Chapter 8: She Who Helped  
  
A/N: hehe, one of my greatest friends appears now in this tale and pretty much takes over like a bustling hen. ...Ok, so I guess I shouldn't compare Prarthana with that, but yes. The elves have landed...oo  
  
Disclaimer: I'm not a Tolkien. Middle-Earth, Lord of the Rings, and Legolas belong to Tolkien. Yay him. God bless his soul.  
  
The bland, barred jail cell gave enough room for the five elves to step around each other and otherwise look around. The inhabitants of the other cells stared strangely at them, and made faces and hurled insults the elves could vaguely understand, and the whole place smelled terrible and smokey. The elves were all but miserable, wishing they were back in Middle-Earth with the obviously confused Legolas among their number. "We've lost our weapons, our horses, Legolas, our freedom..." Talawen sighed, sitting down on one of the two cold benches in the cell and leaning her chin on her hand. "At least the horses are safe in the Black Vale," Enednilwen replied, slowly pacing the length of the cell as her comrades joined Talawen in sitting down for a while. "They didn't get thrown out of it at that last jolt like we were, so they are walking around in a half-void right now."  
"I want to know where our weapons have been taken," Ainacalion growled. "They are no good in the hands of Men, especially not these Men, which do not seem to make use of swords or arrows anyway, especially not the likes of Tirindail." He lowered his head at the mention of his friend's glorious sword, his face pinkening slightly. "Tirindail belongs in the hands of Enednilwen Elenhiril, the only one who can master it."  
Enednilwen gazed at him, a funny little feeling forming inside her stomach, taking root, and branching out into her every nerve. Eruialiwen was sitting beside Talawen, but she was rigid and pale. "What was wrong with Legolas?" she murmured aloud, knowing nobody could easily answer her. "He did not recognize me, nor acted the same as he did in Middle-Earth. Is he lost to this strange world already, or has some darker force taken hold of him?"  
"The bearer of the white-feathered arrow?" Talawen ventured.  
"Of course not," Lothatal snapped, turning away from staring at the cell next door, where a particularly drunk looking man with sagging jowls was making lewd gestures at her, much to her disgust. "No Man can wield darkness to completely brainwash anyone, especially not an elf. We are ten times more powerful than Men. If Legolas is truly deadened to Middle-Earth and what he really is, then it is either the work of the Istari or some Drow. Unless there are those even more powerful living in this world, wherever this is." She moved away from the man in the next cell, who was now feebly reaching through the bars with his hand and trying to grope her backside.  
Eruialiwen and Enednilwen could not quite protest the weakness of Men at this point, and remained silent and comprehensive.  
It was not long later, as the company of elves were still thinking of when they were going to get their weapons back and be freed, when a surly guard--though the guards called themselves cops--came over to their cell and unlocked it with a large set of keys he was carrying. "You fanatics better thank your lust object for bailing you out," he said severely. "He and other people who saw your little skit insist that you idiots were merely in full costume and meant no harm. But you guys keep your weapons at home on your walls and don't bring them into the public, and you'll probably be fine." He swung the door open, his mouth set in a straight line, looking at the elves as though they were the least pleasant things in the world to look at. "I think Legolas does know who he is and who we are," Talawen murmured in Eruialiwen's ear. "Or he would not have gotten us out of this prison of Men."  
"Silence," Lothatal hissed back at her, and quickly walked out into the corridor with her comrades at her heels. "Thank you," Ainacalion said boldly to the guard, and then as though to make himself sound normal to the man, added a contrite "Sir cop" to his comment. The guard's eyes widened, then he scowled. "If we hadn't already tested you guys, I could swear in court that you all are completely stoned."  
"We have not been stoned by anyone," Enednilwen said.  
The guard's disbelieving eyes rested on her, and he scowled once again. "Whatever. Just get out of my sight, ok?"  
The elves hurried past them, and the guard sourly overtook them and led them past a very large, busy room full of more guards and people, where the company gingerly reclaimed their weapons and listened to a strong warning from the guards, and out a set of great doors out into the street. The company merely stood there, gazing this way and that down the black, hard road and the choked buildings flanking it on either side, their eyes seeing far beyond but seeing nothing that could possibly help them at the moment. "Now what do we do?" Enednilwen voiced at last. No-one answered her, for they were all staring in bafflement as great wheeled carriages rolled by, but they were not driven by horses. In fact, they seemed to be driven by nothing at all.  
"We rest," Ainacalion said, recovering momentarily and taking a step backward to join her. "We will rise at first light and continue on. It is the middle of the eve here."  
"And it is summer," remarked Lothatal. "It was autumn in Middle-Earth."  
The other elves already knew this, but did not dare challenge Lothatal's sanity. The sky was not pure, clean blue-black; it had a rather strange dirty tone, and was full of unfamiliar dim stars that were quite nearly blinded out by the very strong lights the buildings and tall lampposts emitted on either side of the road. The air was warm and sultry, but smelled dirty and of massive, extraordinary amounts of the Edain. This world was definitely not Middle-Earth.  
"Maybe this is a new age in Middle-Earth," Enednilwen said. "Maybe the Black Vale transported us to a new age, the age of Men." Her eyes were wide with this consideration, one she did not quite like at all. "I smell nothing but humans," Lothatal growled. "They have bred like mice."  
"There was a time when elves bred like mice, too," Aincalion said with a half-grin in Enednilwen's direction. She stiffened her back and looked away, hiding a fiery flush inside her, and did not notice Ainacalion's grin fall into a frown at her seeming indifference.  
"Speaking of humans, here comes one now," Talawen said in disdain. A dark-skinned young woman with long black hair and equally black eyes had gotten out of one of those horseless carriages and was strolling quickly toward them, her anxious eyes shifting from one elf to the other. The elves warily stood still until the girls reached them, out of breath and still staring unbelievingly at them.  
"You came out of nowhere," she breathed, narrowing one eye. "Orlando Bloom was signing autographs and I was waiting in the crowd for him to reach me. I saw you all fall out of thin air onto the ground. It can't be possible...can it?"  
The elves exchanged glances with one another. "I mean, it's like from a movie or something. Or a really poorly written fanfic," the girl continued, squinting at the thought. "We are looking for Prince Legolas of Mirkwood," Ainacalion said, after the others were finished raising their eyebrows. "As you seem to not think us mad, please humor us by telling us where we are. We have come through a Black Vale into this world."  
Now it was the girl's turn to raise an eyebrow, but as she seemed to be the only one who had seen the company fall out of nowhere, she might as well think that anything was possible. "You're in Virginia Beach," she said. "Virginia. In America. The United States of America. The good ol' New World. Discovered by Columbus, made independent of the Brits in 1776; land of the free, home of the brave and also the incredibly idiotic. That help?" "And what age is this?" Ainacalion inquired, his frown deepening.  
The girl paused for a moment, looking rather confused at the question. "The year is 2004, if that helps?" she offered, shrugging her shoulders.  
"2004..." Ainacalion repeated, drawing down his dark eyebrows so that they nearly collided together at the bridge of his nose. "The second millennium A.D.," the girl said, with a half-grin at her accomplishment. "It's August. August the fifteenth, to be exact."  
Enedilwen and Eruialiwen turned to each other. "It was the midst of October when we entered under the boughs of Mirkwood and the storm struck," Eruialiwen murmured.  
Enednilwen nodded, eyes flickering almost suspiciously to the human girl, who was now rocking impatiently back and forth on the balls of her feet. "We are obviously no longer in Middle-Earth, not even in a new age," the elleth said in a voice as quiet as her sister's. "This is a different land entirely, filled to capacity with humans and strange things. How are we to find Legolas?"  
Eruialiwen blanched, but knew she could not offer anything helpful to say, so she kept mute for the moment, until this human girl offered something they could better work from.  
"I didn't know Middle-Earth really existed," the girl said, her arms now crossed over her chest as she surveyed the elves. "But I really can't imagine where else you COULD have come from, especially from thin air. And you guys are...more...beautiful and fair than any human being there could ever be in the world." Her voice had gone quite soft now, almost awed. "You guys are SO lost."  
"We know," Talawen said dryly.  
The girl moved closer to them, unfurling her arms and sticking one hand out to them, but then she balkingly lowered her hand and tentatively said: "I guess elves don't shake hands?"  
She was met by awkward silence; no one knew what to say next.  
"Well, anyway, my name's Prarthana. I LOVE Lord of the Rings, so pardon my drooling over you guys. Umm...so what are your names?" She was still rocking back and forth on her feet, swinging her hands around her. The elves proceded to introduce themselves, one by one, cooly and trying not to show their mounting worry if this girl was all right in the head or otherwise. She softly repeated each name to herself as they were said, and nodded her head in feigned understanding. "OK, now that we seem to know each othre a little more," she said once they were done, "You guys can crash at my house for tonight. Or however long you need to. You don't have any place to go, after all, so you might as well just come with me."  
The elves by now were too bewildered by everything to protest, and the girl named Prarthana took this as affirmation, and motioned for them to follow her toward the horseless carriage she had stepped out of. She stepped out of the way so they could get in, then immediately thought better of this and opened one of the doors for them. "I'm driving," she informed them as Ainacalion surveyed the inside of the vehicle. He eyed her for a moment, then got inside the carriage, leaving the door open as though ready to flee.  
Eruialiwen was trying another of the door handles. "How strange," she murmured as it came open and she bowed down to sit inside. "How really strange this is." Talawen followed her, and Lothatal stood on the hard ground for a moment, suspicious and undecided, but finally joined the other two elleths and closed the door behind them.  
"There is nowhere for me to sit," Enednilwen announced in dismay, gazing through the windows at her comrades and sister. She looked up at Prarthana expectantly, but the girl only shrugged her shoulders.  
"Sit on somebody's lap, then," she said practically.  
Enednilwen began quite an objection, but Ainacalion reached out and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her into the carriage and onto his lap. She gasped and struggled against him, but laughing he closed the door and blocked her from trying to get out. She turned her head to glare in surprise at him as he smugly loosened his hold on her, now that she had no choice but sit there, and let his hands remain settled on her abdomen. Eruialiwen was managing a grin behind them, and Talawen was tittering, and Lothatal groaned, and all three earned a more fatalistic glare from Enednilwen.  
Prarthana got into the other front seat and closed the door. She eyed Ainacalion and Enednilwen for a moment, and grinned toothily. "Well, whatever works," she said. Directly in front of her was a black, hollow, circular object, and she placed one hand on this as she turned a key that was sticking out below it. The horseless carriage shuddered to life, startling all five elves.  
"Jeez, you all act like you've never seen a car before...oh, yeah, I guess you haven't." The carriage bounded off like a frightened horse, but the movement was shockingly smooth. Eruialiwen and Talawen's faces were white, as they tried to keep their composure, but Lothatal now seemed to ignore the fact that no animal bore the carriage, and was instead curiously inspecting the backs of the seat in front of her and the floorboard and windows. Enednilwen felt like she was about to be propelled out of the wide front window as the carriage hurtled along, past more lights and buildings, and many more carriages with blinding-bright lamps on the fronts of them and dimmer crimson-red lamps on the backs. She closed her eyes and sank back against Ainacalion, more out of the need for protection than anything else, and he took good advantage of this and wrapped his arms around her. She almost hated to admit it to herself, but now she felt an odd sense of safety, as though nothing worse could happen now as long as Ainacalion had her like this. Hardly a word was spoken during the trip, and it was only a few minutes later when Prarthana pulled the carriage into a slightly rocky path and stopped. The carriage died down to silence, and the elves relaxed in their seats. Enednilwen thought about sitting back up, now that there was no longer the danger of being hurtled out the window, but she felt much too comfortable. "Okeedoodles," Prarthana announced, looking out the window at what lay before them. "Welcome to my house. My parents are away for the next couple of weeks, so it's just me and my grandmother. Hooray, huh?" 


End file.
